Mostly Youtuber Ships Thing
by ImHereAndQueer
Summary: I get bored and fill this with pure fan girl. M for sex and swearing.
1. Jack and Mark

**Jack's POV**

For some reason, I was in the middle of a gas station, making the gummy bears I had bought talk. Even I surprise me sometimes. Mark was by the fountain machine getting a Pepsi. I had gone to Rooster Teeth with him and two words : fucking awesome. A lot of people reconized us, more than I thought. The amount of times I was given fan art was uncountable.

"Jack you want a pop?" Mark asks. I lift a red gummy into the air.

"No thank you," it says. "Ja-"Suddenly I hear a scream, look up, and see a blur of black, blue and white. Something slams into me and I take a few steps back.I drop the gummy in my hand.I realize that I'm carrying something warm, soft- did I just get attack hugged? At this point Mark is looking at me with a cocky grin from a few the soda fountain and starts to walk over. I don't wanna be rude, so I let the hug happen for a few minutes before pushing my attacker back so I can get a good look at them.

It's a girl and she's grinning at me with her teeth, which have clear braces decorating them. Her hair is a light brown color and long and down, so it's covering her eyes. And her eyes... quite possibly the bluest things I've ever seen. She unleashes her grip on me and starts.

"OH MY HOLY MELANIE MARTINEZ YOU ARE FRICKING, NO, FUCKING JACK. OH MY SWEET BABY JESUS AND LORD IN HEAVEN I THINK I MIGHT BE DYING I NEED SENPAI OH MY FUCK YOUR JACK!" she screams. Then she gets a look at Mark and I swear she stopped breathing. "Holy. Actual. Fucking. Shit."

Mark got the pleasure of making the girl squeeze her eyes shut and jump up and down. Mark just has a smile on his face the whole time. It's kinda cute the way he is with his fans, really sweet and funny and gentle. But, uhh... um, not cute. It's just, um, he' really nice and kind to them. But Mark's definitely NOT cute. Not cute.

The girl calms down down and puts her hand out as a handshake to us.

"I'm Mak. Huge fan of you both! This is so goddamn cool!" Mark and I shake her hand and she tells how she got into us. A few years ago she started going to advanced classes and met her best (and senpai calling) friend, Joey. Mak knew about the gaming part of YouTube but never took part of it until her best friend showed her it. Joey was more into Cry and Pewds. Mak mostly watched me, Ken and Mark. Both were major tomboys who knew everything about gaming.

"Joey will trip! Holy shitnits, can I take a picture with you guys for bragging rights?" Mark gave such a warm smile that I almost melted.

"Not a problem," he said. Mak stepped in between us and got out her phone before I noticed a slight problem.

"Mark. She's taller than you." Mak was at least an inch and a half taller than my friend. I bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud.

"No way in Hell!" Mark protested. He lined up the top of his head with his hand to Mak's forehead. Mark furrowed his eyebrows and stood on his tiptoes. Even then, it was pretty obvious who was taller. Mark looked I disbelief.

"How old are you? Damn, I know I'm short but holy fuck!"

"Twelve." Mak says it bluntly. "I have a thirteen year old friend who's five foot six, and Joey's eleven and five foot four. We are a tall bunch of motherfuckers." I can't hold it in anymore. I clutch my stomach and bend over laughing. This was just too perfect. I can feel Mak smirking and Mark's eyes widening and I know some old lady is going to walk by and shake her head in disappointment for our generation but I don't care.

"Oh-oh holy shiiiit th-this is great," I choke out in between laughs and manage to put my arm around Mak's shoulder. "You are th-the BEST k-kid ever." Mak beams when I say that, grinning with her braced up teeth. We usher Mark in between us, despite his efforts to to be in the middle, and take a few pics. Mak smiles proudly at the pictures.

"I was super lucky. Never going to shut up about this. Really nice to see you guys!" She chirps, and I'm eighty percent sure it's the first sentence she's said without any swear words. Mak waves a little goodbye and skips to the gas station door. I don't even realize her phone is in my hand until Mark points it out. I yell for her to come back and start to run towards her.

"Hey, wai-" I shout, but I stop when I trip on the floor tile. I flail my arms around trying to balance myself but it does no good. Mark reaches out to me to help but I pull him in too and we're both falling like the klutz's we are. I manage to turn us around though, so Mark is on the bottom. Even if he's short, he's much more well built and masculine than me. I would be crushed.

We both let out soft grunts on impact before we realize how we fell. We were kissing. Mark's face was pushed against my face and we both just sat in that position until Mak walked up, took her Cheshire Cat phone from my hand, and left the gas station without a word. I scrambled off Mark and stood up. It was hard to tell if my face was as red as I thought it was. My stomach was doing flip flops and all sorts of things stomachs shouldn't be doing. Why was this so fucking awkward?!

"So..uh... I'm gonna wait outside while you pay for that pop...yeeeaahh..." I mumble. Somehow none of Mark's Pepsi had spilled. Mark stood up and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"You do thaaaat... I'll just go check out..." Mark murmurs. I pull my bag of gummy bears close to my chest and head to the door.

Outside I lean against the the front of the gas station, my brain trying to process what just happened. The awkwardness of the situation hurt. We should have just laughed it off, like we did when we read dumb fanfics. Why was it so weird? Did Mark feel something, other than a kickass friendship towards me? I almost drool at the thought. I tell myself to STOP. I didn't like Mark. Mark didn't like me. I had to get that fantasy out of my head.

"You zoned out or something?" I look up at Mark. He had somehow silently walked up to me. I shrug like I wasn't just daydreaming of hitting third base with my best friend.

"I'm fine," I say. We stand in uncomfortable silence for what feels like hours. And before I can bring it up, Mark says it first.

"We gotta talk about the kiss," he blurts out. I feel my cheeks heat up in embarrassment. I look down and and pop a green gummy in my mouth.

"I don't think it was that big of a deal," I lie. "I don't care that much." Mark groaned.

"Yeah, but I do! Damn Sean, you gotta care a little bit." Mark sighed. He leaned against the wall with me. It's hard not to notice how his pink and blonde hair is ruffled up. Or how his brown eyes are so soft it makes you sleepy. Or how his lips are sticking out slightly, just enough to be kissed.

I don't know what posses me, but for whatever reason I take action. I carefully pull Mark's head so I get a good angle and lean in for the shot. Mark's lips are soft, definitely softer than anyone else's I'd ever kissed. My arms are going around his neck and his arms are going around my waist and our eyes are closed because this moment is just too perfect. Mark's the first one to add a little of pressure and I instantly do the same, my arms going lower until they're around his upper back instead of his neck.

Then I hear a banging sound and both of us lean away in surprise. Inside a red car, a smiling cat phone is recording while it's brace face owner is clapping.

Shit.

 **Mak : 8:25 : Video sent! I RAN INTO THESE TWO AND THEY FELL AND THEY WENT OUTSIDE AND THEN KISSING**

 **Joey : 8:27 : You met Jack and Mark.**

 **Joey : 8:27 : And**

 **Joey : 8:27 : They**

 **Joey : 8:28 : Kissed**

 **Mak : 8:29 : Yes.**

 **Joey : 8:31 : This shit's going on YouTube.**

 **Mak : 8:31 : I knew you'd be proud my gay loving senpai.**

 **A/N /^\ Mak and Joey are my IRL friends. Had to sneak them in. Yes, we all call each other senpai.**


	2. Cranier and Ian

**Crainer's POV**

I dreamt that hairy arms were pulling me apart. It wasn't scary, but just strange to watch because it was happening from third person. I woke up slightly panicked, in a child's room before remembering the night before. Ian had picked me up fro the airport, and I was sleeping in his son's room while he was at his mom's and Maddie was at her parents. Then I took note of the two inch hairy spider crawling on my leg.

I shouted and fell off the bed. Scrambling to get up, I threw a pillow at the thing. It was climbing out of sight when I ran downstairs. I look up the stairs to make sure it wasn't chasing me. No way was I going back to the room. I stood at the base of the stairs for a few minutes, not knowing what to do. I just walked to the living room area and got on the couch. It was cold and I folded myself into a ball. I didn't see any blankets, and I was too chicken.

"Who died and why are you like that?" I heard a groggy voice ask. I look at Ian, who looked down at me grumpily. I guess I woke him up. Oops.

"There was a spider." Ian looks at me I disbelief. "Two inches big and black!" I add quickly before he would say something. Ian sighs and grabs my hand.

"Just c'mon." He mumbles tiredly. I'm too sleepy to object so he drags me along to his room. Ian flops onto his bed and points to the spot next to him. "Sleep." I awkwardly sit down and pull my legs to my chest. Ian glares at me and I quickly lay down. I remember to not bug him when he's tired. I hear Ian sigh and mumble something.

"What?" I question.

"I said, I'm not going to fuck you." I also make sure to remember that Ian likes to swear when he's tired. I'm grateful for the dark so he won't see my blush. I hear shuffling and Ian lays down on his side and steals all of the blanket. I snatched it back. Ian pulled it closer to him and we're playing tug of war.

"Dude, it's my blanket I get to be cozy." Ian growls.

"It's my freezing body and it needs warmth." I snap. Ian doesn't say anything, just turns on his other side so faces me and scoots closer. We're both in the middle of the blanket and I try not to notice the heat radiating off Ian.

"Better?" I nod and shut my eyes. Ian was actually really warm, and it made me really drowsy. "Good. Now sleep!" I laugh a little and drift off.

 **A/N ^_-_^ It's short and not that good, but I wrote the drafts for this a four am and it crashed twice as I wrote. I got fed up and wrote crap. Happy five day break from school.**


	3. Dianite and Mot

**Mot's POV**

My stomach had never really settled since falling, permanently being where my lungs should be and my lungs where my brain should be and gods know where my brain was. I could only hope Dia could get us to where ever we were going soon. I almost groan at the thought of falling longer than the sky people had. It had almost been that long and no updates on where we were. If we where anywhere.

"You okay?" Dia asks me, face soft. I must of zoned out. I smile at him.

"Just thinking." Dia was a good five inches taller than me, with slightly sharpened white teeth. His black hair is short and goes behind his pointed ears. Dia was muscular and well built, two little hard bumps of horn appearing on each side of his collarbone. He had brown eyes, resembling the color of dark chocolate slightly. Dia in general was extremely handsome, making me look innocent and small in contrast even though I was tall and kicked ass when needed.

Dia pulls me so that I'm right in front of him. He lays flat out and pulls me enough to where I'm sitting on his stomach/chest region. The act was easy enough, considering that we hadn't experienced the touch of the ground in almost half a year. I shift myself so that I lay stomach down on him.

"You're scaring me, Mot. You don't talk as much as you used to, and I see you holding your head. Are the headaches back?" Dia worries. Most people see him as frightening, but he could be really sweet. Dia pushes the hair out of my face to see the rash. I feel my face heat up as he does. He notices, and immediately large leathery wings come out from his back and shield us, bubbling Dia and I from everyone else. I look in awe, having seen him do tricks like this for years but never getting used to it. Dia smirks proudly as he sees my astonishment. He continues examining my left face, touching carefully against the flaky light light green skin. He traces the line between the rash and healthy skin delicately, like he might break me if he was too rough. Dia's thumb presses against my left eyelid gently, seeing if the skin there was infected yet.

"I still can't figure out what it is. It makes me look like a creeper, and my eye doesn't help." I commented. I was born with a left black eye. Not a purple ugly swelling around my eye, but my whole eye being a pure jet black. Dia nods and continues inspecting my face, hands faintly rubbing over the green infection that took over the left portion my body. Dia's hands go from my face to my sleeve, tugging at it before I pulled it up almost fully to my shoulder. The green rash goes down to my elbow, dangerous and angry looking.

Dia looks at me sadly.

"It's okay, I'll just take something from Martha for the headaches. The rash is going be fixed after we land." I promise, unable to know if I'll be able to keep it. Dia frowns sadly.

"That's the point, Mot. You've been suffering from that infection for almost five years now, all of that time without me. Why is it so hard for you to just get a break?" He sighed depressingly and wrapped his arms around my shoulders.

"It's just a vile rash. It's nasty and it makes me feel nasty and look nasty and that's it." I muttered, unable to look Dia in the eyes and talk about how disgusting the rash made my body. Dia's hands snake down to my waist and he stared at me, face disappointed.

"Why you you ever say that? You're so beautiful..." Dia kissed my neck up and down, his lips only landing where the green skin was. He leaned up from his laying position to reach my neck. A blush creeped on my cheeks and down my neck but I ignore it.I crossed my legs around Dia and grabbed his shoulders, pulling myself closer to him. Dia's wings still covered us like a shield. His kisses stalked up my neck to my jaw and to my check. Dia kissed my forehead before going down to my temple before finally making it to my lips. He pressed gently at first, but added more pressure as he continued. I kissed him back, shivers going up my spine as our eyes closed. Dia and I leaned away from the kiss slowly and went back to laying on each other. Dia still had his arms around my back.

"See?" Dia asked cupped my check with his hand. "Beautiful." I smile and lay into his chest, shutting my eyes. I hear the stretch of him unfolding his wings and I don't care if any of the guys see. All I care is that Dia is amazingly warm and that I'm so tired.

 **A/N :*^*: I didn't want to write again, but this idea stuck... and I'm Mianite shipping trash. It's good enough. I sleep now. :*^*: EDITED**


	4. More Dianite and Mot

I didn't know what to think of Tom. He was loud and rude and up front about everything. He was also clever and giving and goofy. His traits all balanced out so I couldn't necessarily call him had or good. Two things kept me from forgetting him : he was my "alter ego" and he had killed Dianite in his world. Anyone with enough strength to kill a god was a better ally than enemy. He even beat me in a fight, which is shocking considering how much I get into them. All in all Tom had a decent personality. That was unless you got him intrigued in a touchy topic.

"SONJA HUN CAN YOU MAKE US TEA PLEASE AND THANKS!" Tom shouts as he sits down at the table, slightly sweaty from the brawl. It was slightly bothering how he treated Alyssa's counter part, but Foxx didn't mind and flipped Tom off as she flew back to her house for ingredients. Tom laughed and ran his hand through his blue-green hair. His skin was tinted slightly with green and he wore a suit with the top three buttons undone. A tie hung loosely around his neck and his dress pants were wrinkled. When I had first met Tom I asked him why he dressed so fancily everywhere. He told me that everyday was a party, and you can never go to a party under dressed. His view on life was very interesting.

I sit down across him. The table has three very realistic plastic cakes decorating it. Dully colored balloons hang off tree branches. A jukebox stands lonely off to the right, with a rack of CDs asking to be played. Martha's house was about sixty meters in the he front of the jukebox and cast a shadow over the picnic.

Tom puts his elbows on the table and leaned in.

"Sooo got anyone you like?" He asks jokingly. I know he's just kidding but I can feel a blush threaten. I avoid eye contact and drum my hands on the table.

"Not particularly, no." I respond nervously. My counterpart stares at me, eyes squinted. I begin to feel uncomfortable and shift in my seat a little. Tom suddenly breaks out into laughter. He clutches his stomach and closes his eyes and goes at it for a few minutes before he can calm himself down enough to speak.

"Oh my gods you do! Who's the crush?" Tom asked. The blush that threatened hit like the fucking floor. Tom squealed, actually squealed, and clapped his hands. "Yes! Yes! Yes! This is so awwweeeesooooome!" He sang. I would of slapped him I I hadn't had froze, my heart going to fast to pump any blood. The second I regain control of my body I object.

"TomIdon'thaveacrushandifyoukeepsayingIdoIwillendyourass!" I babbled, shaking my head. Tom just grins at me and continues asking questions. What's their name? Does he know them? Have I kissed them yet? Do they know I "like like" them? On a scale of one to ten, how fine is their ass?

"Tom, you amaze me with your idiotic ways." I commented after the last question. My blush had calmed down into something controllable and my heart had calmed down to a human speed. Tom flashes me a cocky smile and leans into his chair. He folds his arms behind his head. Tom's hand went to his ear and touched the C.H.A.T that allowed people to talk long distances. I was yet to be given one.

"SONJA WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT TEA?" He screams. I hear Sonja yell back something about being in her farm. He taps the C.H.A.T off and sighs.

"Bitch." I nod, hopeful this is enough to get him offtrack. Tom was easily distracted, to say the least. My hopes were crushed as Tom looked at me with a look that said _Please tell me._ I groan loudly and bang my head on the table in frustration. Why wouldn't the idiot just give up?!

"TEN OUTTA FUCKING TEN THOMAS. TEN OUT OF TEN." I shout. I can't stop the flow of pissed off words exiting my mouth. "THEY ARE POWERFUL AS HELL EVEN WHEN THEY'RE DEAD. AND LETS BE REAL, THEY'RE A HE. YOU KNOW HIM. I KNOW HIM. HE'S OUR GOD DIPSHIT." I lift my head up just to pound it on the table harder. Tom blinked before getting up. He walked over to the jukebox and put in a song. I recognized it from a night club I went to years ago. I hear Tom crack his fingers and look up.

"I gotta fly. Sonja didn't get the tea, slight disappointment. I have to get some things from the Twilight Forest. Nice hanging out with you." Tom said. He tapped a ring on his hand, which immediately led to a pair of massive dragon wings coming out of his back. He turned away and walked a few steps but stopped right as he was about to fly off.

"You know, I think Dia boy kinda likes you too." Tom commented softly. Before I can ask questions he's in the air and speeding away. I sigh and put my head against the table. It was cool against my forehead and I stay like that for gods know how long before a strange chill goes up my spine, like I was being watched. I look up from the table. The sun is setting over the sea,and it's the perfect time for when the water gets shimmery like colored glass in a church.

" 'Ello?" I mumble out, lips sticky from drooling slightly. I would clean that up later. A figure appears, a little translucent. "Hey Dia." My heart starts to pound in my chest. He walks up to the table and sits to the left of me. Dia tilts his head and smirks.

"Why was my ass a piece of conversation?" My face doesn't shade pink but a lovely shade of crimson. I smack my head back onto the table in hopes of a concussion.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck." I groan. "How much did you hear?"

"I left as he was asking questions."

"Then how did you-?"

"The five read your diary while you were in there world." Dia cuts me off. The blush that had just started basically hit me upside the head with a sports bat. I should of carried my diary with me so I could have had it in the other's world. Gods know just how personal that thing got.

I look up from my arms at Dia. Even though he could only manifest as a spirit, he looked exactly how he had before he died. Same hair, eyes, frame, just more silhouetted and transparent. He wasn't solid, walking through him was similar to walking through a light rain. Dia could hold and control things as he was dead but only for a short amount of time.

"So you know?" I sigh, although I already know the answer. Dia nods.

"Gods, strike me down now please." I point to the back of my head. "Lightning right about here should kill me painlessly." I hear Dia snort, which I don't know how he does being dead.

"Sure thing bud. Do you want a whole storm of electricity or a single huge bolt?"

"The one uses that less strength and let's me go into the next life."

"Which is right here, getting everything back after you spawn again." Dia says, and we both laugh a little, crushes forgotten. The he leans in close to my face a pecks my left cheek. Any blush that left came back harder. Dia's lips feel like the foam off a largely carbonated soda not my skin. He stays like that for a few seconds before leaning away with a smile.

"That would have felt a lot better if I was alive." Dia acknowledged, a smile on his face.

"I SHIIIP IT!" Tom's voice echos out. I look up, but he's not there. I almost fall out of my seat, and Dia sinks through his.

"Tom you were right!" Foxx said in between laughs. My hands go to me ears, and the small circle machine is there.

"Tom did you fucking tag me with a C.H.A.T when you knocked me out with your chemical sword!?" I raged. My answer was received in the two pair of giggles I heard. By now Dia was standing up, his face turning pink.

"It was going all day!" Tom says, pride in his voice. "Sonja and I were private messaging, but Mot, you were public all day!"

"Thomas I will end you! That is mammothly prying into other's business!" Dia yells. We are met with more snickers before I turn my C.H.A.T off. I sigh and get up ready to leave. The sky had gone from sunset to evening, the first few stars beginning to creep out in the sky.

"I'm going to head out. I'm pretty tired." I mumble. I wasn't actually physically sleepy, but my head needed a break. Dia nods and gives a wave. I pull a silver speed potion out of my pocket but before I can take out the cork Dia says something.

"Remember what I said about bringing me back to life." I nod slightly. I pull out the cork and bring the glass to my lips, drinking the sweet liquid. As I run home, all I can think about is how much better Dia's lips would feel on mine than the bottle.

 **A/N "+×*×+" I**. **Am. Diaot. Trash. Smol update : I want to keep these in First Person and I want to use context clues to show who's POV it is. Secondly, I got rid of the first two chapters. They were terrible, and I don't want people to quit reading because of them. Thirdly, I put smut as a warning on the summary. Don't fucking review "ew! gross!" because you can't handle it. I want actual reviews telling what to work on and what's good. That is all.**


	5. Even More Dianite and Mot

My shirt and jacket are sticking on me, and I have no clue why. I touch my chest and lightly tug on the material. It clings onto my skin and I look down sleepily at the mystery substance. Red stained my fingertips and my shirt and my eyes go big instantly knowing what happened.

"Fu-ck." I say softly and breaking the swear into two words. I lift the hem of my shirt up to see the cause of the blood but I can't see it under my scarf. I begin to take it off my neck when Dia stirs next to me before turning over. I just barely managed pull my shirt back down and cover my body in time.

Dia's eyelids are still heavy will sleep as he looks at me. _I must have woken him up,_ I think. He smiles sluggishly.

"Why are you up?" Dia asks, voice similar to being drunk. I roll my shoulders nonchalantly like nothing was wrong. Dia shrugs and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I melt into the embrace and momentarily forget my chest. My hands drop and go around Dia's upper body.

"Mot?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you wet?" I panic as Dia pushes away and stares at me. As soon as he sees the blood stains he flipped us over so we were sitting instead of laying down. Dia bites his lip, eyes full of concern.

"Take off your shirt." He orders. I pull the fabric over my head, knowing he'll remind me who's the god in the relationship if I don't. I hold my clothing and sneak a chance to look at myself. My rash spread from my neck to my chest and stomach, the skin turning an ugly green and flaky. Nail marks raked against the top level of skin, blood hardening and stopping more flow of itself but breaking with each twist of my torso. Sudden sharp pain sears through my body as Dia gently touches the gashes. I jerk back just to have more white hot pain dance on my back lower waist. I probably have some rash on my back too. Dia reads my mind and pulls me closer to him. His fingers graze my skin, and when he pulls his hand back blood coats his nails.

"Dammit! Dammit all to Hell and back." Dia growls. "Mot you need real medicine. And bandages. And treatment." I almost shake my head. The idea of a grown man being treated by a group of people who just barely count as adults doesn't appeal. Dia growls in frustration and hangs his head into his now red hands.

"Mot, why were you scratching at it? You said you weren't itchy." I wasn't. My body didn't feel any different than it had when the rash started, which spread painlessly. It just felt dirty because of the blood.

"It doesn't. I just scratched at it while I slept, and I have no idea why." I answer. Dia sighs and pulls me close enough to him so he can carefully examine the marks. It takes everything in me not to wince when he touches the wounds, even when he's being as gentle as possible.

"This is going to get infected." Dia says, more to himself than to me. Almost as if on cue Tom floats next to us. His black jacket is tied around his waist and his shirt is unbuttoned halfway. Dia and I had the habit of being much higher than anyone else we were galling with. If anyone wanted to talk, they had to stretch out all their limbs to float up to us.

"Why are you guys up so late? I'd rather not have mystery white liquid flying into my face as I sleep." Tom mutters. The comment pisses me off.

"Incubating an egg." I hiss, and tense up when Dia touches a particularly sensitive gash. Tom takes notice of the injury and his face goes slightly green. He was never one for gore. Tom covers his eyes with his hands.

"Sh-should I get M-M-Martha?" He stutters. Dia nods and Tom falls back down, obviously freaked out. Dia pulls me onto his lap and make sit so my back faces him.

"Mot, this is going to hurt. Bad. Are you okay?" Dia asks, voice full of concern.

"I've had worse." I lie. Dia had me on him in a way that none of the wounds were making contact with him. I allow myself to relax for a minute, getting ready for whatever Martha was going to do. Shit. What _was_ Martha going to do? I couldn't get too good of a look at the marks on my chest and I had no idea how serious it was. The thought of surgery terrifies me.

"You're gonna be okay, Mot." Dia murmurs. "I won't leave you." The words instantly comfort me. He could always read my mind, I've never been sure if was him or his powers. Dia plants small kisses on the back do my head, one of the few remaining areas on me that wasn't green. A small blush creeps onto my cheeks, nothing too noticeable in the dark void though. His lips peck against my thin hair and I can feel them on my scalp. Dia trails down, not quite kissing but still something in that spectrum, making shivers go up my spine. He was always so careful when the infection was a matter of discussion. Dia sucked on the crook of my neck, not hard enough to leave a bruise but enough for me to gasp quietly. He leans away but not before grazing my skin lightly with his tongue.

We stay like that for a few minutes, not knowing who was more scared. Me, who might bleed out. Or Dia, who would watch me bleed out. I watch the figure of Martha fly up to us. Wag was with her, which I didn't mind. He was pretty intimate with Martha, and the two got along very well. Martha had her purple hued hair in a loose bun, similar to her mother's. Her usual tight shirt was replaced by a simple dark grey tank top. Wag's cloak hung loosely on him, letting his under shirt show. Hie eyes, usually a dull red in colour, we're filled with concern.

"The fuck happened?" He demanded but Martha shut him up.

"Fix him first." She said. It wasn't fierce, but Wag shut up immediately. Martha reached into her golden bag and pulled out a small bottle with a thick, light blue liquid inside. "Potions are out of the question- they can only be used eight seven seconds after injury. We have to clean out the wounds and stitch them together." I calm my heart down, less worried since I won't be cut open. Dia sighs behind me, whether in relief or preparing himself mentally I don't know.

Martha reaches back into her bag and pulls out cotton balls. She tosses a few to Wag and pours some of the liquid onto hers. Martha hands the bottle to Wag then glances at me for approval. I nod slightly and brace myself. Martha presses the tip of the cotton ball to one cut across my chest. At first it's cold and almost feels nice. Then a burning sensation begins and I have to bite my bottom lip to keep from yelling out. The heat is sharp and I know Martha is trying to be as careful as possible but I flinch when she starts moving the cleaner. Dia reached out for my waist to hold me in place but my back touches the sharp buttons of his jacket. I can't stop the strangled whimper that escapes my mouth as more pain shoots throughout my back.

"Sorry sorry sorry." Dia breathes and doesn't bother touching me low, but places his hands on my shoulders. Martha moves to a cut on my lower left stomach after thoroughly scraping away any dried blood on the first cut. Wag came up on my side.

"I have to look at the ones on your back." He mumbles. Martha stops momentarily to let me inch my back forward. Wag dabs his cotton ball onto my skin. The burning feeling attacks me from both sides and I have to screw my mouth shut to keep from making any noises. I don't know what liquid was in that bottle, but I hate it. When each gash has been attended to Marth and Wag pull back. Wag turns to Martha.

"The back cuts don't need stitches, they're too shallow." Martha nods and puts back everything she had token out of her golden bag. I allow myself to let out a shaky breath, happy that the Hell was over.

"Would you be a hun and bandage them?" Martha asks, and throws a roll of gauze to Wag. She searches for unknown items as soon as Wag catches it. He nods and begins to wrap the wounds in the material. It doesn't hurt except a dull ache in each cut. The only bad part was having to pull down my pants a bit so Wag could get a cut right above the line of my underwear. I'm sure he loved the new knowledge that I wear boxer briefs. As soon as I pull my pants back up I hear Martha "Ah~ha!" and she pulls out a small box. She opens it take stake out a needle and thread. But no anesthetics.

"Painkillers?" I question weakly. Fear quickly builds up in my stomach as she shakes her head. I'm about to push myself off Dia and hide in the endless void when Dia grabs hold of my hips.

"Martha do you have anything to bite on?" He says quickly. She nods and fishes out a worn cloth from her bag. Dia hands it to me. "It doesn't help with the pain but it'll keep you from biting off your tongue." I put it in my mouth and clamp my jaw shut. I shut my eyes, not wanting to anticipate the needle.

At first, similar to the cleaner, I feel it's coldness. Then the needle begins to break skin and a small sharp pain starts. Martha continues pressing it in, the pain getting more intense and it goes in deeper. I start to feel it push on the other side of the skin. The pain is unimaginable, unlike anything I have ever experienced. On the fifth hole I start to fight back, not caring what'll happen. All I know is that everything is so painful and it all hurts so bad and I just want to curl up into a ball and disappear into a million pieces of nothing. Dia holds me steady waist up but my legs are free. I begin thrashing, kicking like crazy. Martha still continues stitching, finishing her first cut and moving onto the next of many. Wag quickly grabs my legs and tries to hold them still, obviously struggling.

My face is starting to get hot and wet from tears. I keep jerking my body in and attempt to escape even though it's clear I won't. Martha is on her fourth cut when I start to tire and on her fifth she I give up. Little animal noises that I never knew I could make were coming out of my body in choked back sobs. The cloth in my mouth had long since been spite out, letting all the sounds be clear as cries of pain can be. I am extremely fortunate that everyone else can sleep through earthquakes.

Dia is trying to calm me down, soothes coming out of his mouth but I don't care. It all hurts. Undescribable pain filling my body. He's stroking my face and I know he's holding back tears but I can't think properly. I'm still letting out shaky whimpers as Martha start to pack everything away. Wag is letting go of my legs and he's giving Dia my shirt and scarf, which I hadn't noticed he'd held onto. I curl into Dia's chest, shaking and face wet.

"Thank you." Dia whispered. Martha and Wag just nod before falling back down with the group. Dia protectively wrapped his arms around me, but quickly withdrew when I whined quietly at the contact on my sore skin. He ended up wrapping his arms around my neck and pulling me close to him. I uncurl and let my legs drop. I'm still crying a bit, but I bury myself into him. Dia's hand finds hair and starts brushing through it.

"I'm so sorry." He chokes out. I lean up enough to kiss Dia's jawline. I do it slowly and go down to his neck, not sucking but kissin and licking. I stop and put my head back into his chest. He understood that he didn't need my forgiveness.

 **A/N (₩_₩) HOLY SHIT THIS IS THE LONGEST THING I'VE EVER WRITTEN. Haha, I should rename this book to Diaot plus a couple other things.**


	6. Cry and Felix

Tumblr was a mess of hopeless fans freaking out and fan art and OHMYGODPEWDSISSTAYINYWITHCRY! It was quite entertaining really, and Felix watched from behind me with interest. Sure, every few pictures there would be horrific porn art but the overall reaction was worth it. With each sex picture Felix or I would laugh nervously. He slammed my laptop shut when we found a threesome comic with us and Mark. Awkwardness hung in the air painfully until Felix burst out laughing.

"M-Mark l-l-looked so, so _pleased_!" The Sweden choked out. I cover my face, unwilling to show I was smiling.

"But he was just so Mark too." I say monotonely, causing Felix to explode. He falls back onto my bed sprawled out. Blankets and pillows shape into an angelic shape as he moves his arms up and down. I can only watch in amusement. When Felix has made sure my bed is completely destroyed, and that the fit of laughter has ceased, he stops making bed angels.

"See Cry, this is why I am staying at your place. So when I come to Florida, I can come to this house and look at art of us fucking at-" Felix looks at a clock on the wall. "-Two in the morning." The light of the laptop had kept me awake. Without it, nothing short of grade A insomnia could stop me from passing out. I stand up, fumble out of one of the two shirts I was wearing, and plop onto the bed. It's hard not to groan at how amazingly soft the pillows are, how I just want to fall into them.

Felix gets up and walks to kill the lights in my bedroom. He walks out of my field of vision and I'm too lazy to stalk his movements. I hear him pick up something and slide open a zipper.

"Cry?" Felix asks.

"Hmm?" I mumble, still not even knowing what Felix was holding.

"Where do I change?" My apartment has a lot of windows. My apartment was also only on the second story of the building. Getting dressed in any room besides the bathroom and bedroom was a challenge. And of course, the bathroom was freezing at night so Felix couldn't change in there. Which left the bedroom, which I was currently about to enter REM in.

"Change there. I can't see anything so don't worry." I mutter, turning more onto my side so my whole back faced Felix. I could care less if he got changed in my sight, I just didn't say so out loud.

I hear Felix say something along the lines of "Okay" and he begins pulling out pajamas. When he's done changing he lays on the bed next to my left. My couch was too cramped to sleep on so we agreed on sharing the thing.

"Cry, also known as the only man in the world who doesn't change when he sleeps." Felix announces. I reach back and slap him.

"Husshhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I want to sleep." Felix shrugs and pulls the blanket close to him. I flip him off but don't care much. The room temperature is lukewarm and I would survive.

About to drift off, I shut my eyes. God knows if I was asleep or zoned out or whatever else, but my eyes open again. The clock says its only three forty. I didn't know how cold the room was when I was in that weird asleep-but-not state. I'm about to get up for a blanket when I realize something is restraining me. Felix had his arms wrapped around me in a bear hug. His legs bent to the shape of my legs, his waist right under my ass. _One of my best friends was spooning me while he slept._ I can't say anything, lips stuck together either from drooling or lack of chapstick.

The position was uncomfortable. Not physically but mentally. Was I supposed to wake him up? Stay like that until morning? Roll out of his grip and fall on the floor? I try to shift a little out of Felix's hands and somehow just make everything closer, or bodies centimeters apart from touching. He had a kind of aura, a radiation of heat. I hadn't noticed it before, but it was obvious now that I was freezing my ass off.

Felix mumbled something in Swedish and pulled me closer to him. The little distance between us was sealed, the back of my head buried into his neck. I feel him smile on my scalp.

"I love you..." Felix mumbles. Rational thoughts pushed the other ones out. Felix probably thought I was Marzia. He was asleep, dreaming about something fucking weird. Not me.

I sigh and let the embrace happen. I was too tired to object to the situation. Besides, Felix was really warm and because he was stealing all of the current ones, he would make a good blanket.

 **A/N .(*¥*¥*). Quick thing I made. Pewdiecry, one of the first ships I found. MEMORIIIES!**


	7. Kid and Zek- Contest Entry

Nervous is an emotion you feel before a drivers test. On a first date. Preparing yourself for a performance at a talent show. The emotion that I felt was not nervousness; it was pure anxiety. Did I really want to do this? The thought kept nagging in the back of my mind as I made sure the house didn't look like it had suffered God's wrath. After all, the business could be sketchy. Suppose I open the door to the barrel of an Astra A-60?

I go in the bathroom and check myself. My hair is straight and neat, perfectly falling over my bad eye. I couldn't find any trace of acne in my hairline, where it was always worse. I looked like a decent, 23 year old man who had a slight emo influence on hairstyles. I scruff up my hair a bit then deciding it looked better before and combing it with my fingers. _He_ never liked it when I studied my face. I was just a doll for fun, playing was more important than the quality of the toy.

I lean away from the bathroom mirror and shake my head violently - no. I would not let myself think about this now. The wall I'd built to protect myself was eroding, falling to the sharp memories. Gripping the sink I steady myself until I stop shaking. I stay like that, determined to not succumb to a panic attack. When I hear a knock on the door I sigh with a relief. Whoever had come, came just before I could start to cry. I walk through the living room and open the front door.

The young man standing there is almost exactly what I had asked. Too young looking to be called beautiful, pretty suits the bill just fine. Fair skin, hazel eyes. The straight, unnatural posture and unsure eyes tell me he's inexperienced. At least I wasn't the only one. He's an inch or so smaller than me. His clothing is a tight gray t-shirt and boot cut jeans. He's the opposite of _him,_ except for his hair colour. His hair is a deep black, three white stripes on the right of his head. The white stripes made him distinct, though they were slightly strange, I'm grateful they are there.

He takes a card out of his back pocket and hands it to me. The shiny plastic is new and says his name is Kid. There are no indications of STDs, which is some reassurance. It says his age is 22, a year younger than me, but he looks more like a teenager. I reach for my wallet and pull out what is probably more than double the cost and hand it to Kid, along with the card. He nods and puts them both in his pocket.

We stand there, not knowing what to do next. Kid's hands tremble slightly, scared if I will abuse him. I don't want to beat him, as many others would do to callboys. I wanted to manipulate his body in a way pain didn't exist. I wanted both of us to feel pleasure that shouldn't be humanly possible. I wanted to feel needed as a lover, even if he was a whore and our situation was just a pity fuck.

I pull Kid's arm gently, leading him to my bedroom. He follows without resistance. I had never thought that I would actually get this far, but the pulse I feel through Kid's skin somehow keeps me from stopping. I pause in the doorway, reassuring myself for a final time that I was actually doing this.

Kid stares at me with wide eyes. I hadn't realized how large and softly coloured they were before, similar to that of a doe. This gives me confidence as I lean in to kiss him. His lips are soft and thick, slightly chapped. He freezes in surprise before fumbling to kiss back. It's long and slow and deep and I can feel myself being sucked into it. We lean away only air is absolutely needed, breathes light pants. I quickly strip myself of my blue plaid jacket before connecting our lips again. I wrap my hands around his neck and close any distance between us.

Less than five minutes together, and Kid has made me more content than _he_ ever did.

Kid's hands entangle in my hair, pulling down to him. He pushes us to the bed. We never break apart our bodies until Kid is comfortably straddling me. We rid ourselves of upper body garments and I admire his body. His chest was toned and shaven. If there is a mark or bruise on one side, it is on the other. I take note of this as I lead my head to his neck, sucking on the soft skin. Kid's breath shakes for a moment and his eyes close to were they're not quite open but not quite shut. My hands ghost his sides, earning a shivered gasp that makes me smirk into his neck.

"Y-Your." Kid manages. I drag my tongue from his left shoulder to his collarbone. Kid had an intoxicating smell, something masculine yet fruity, that made him seem irresistible.

"Your na-name." I lick my way to his temple and plant a small kiss near his ear.

"Zek." I whisper. Kid nods and guides our heads back together. He licks into my mouth, getting acess to play with me a little. I shiver as his tongue slips away from my lips to my cheek, the wet muscle circling on the skin. I don't realize he's lifting my hair until he stops his movements. I can't move in fear. My eye was visible, the angry red and scratchy skin trailing down my eyebrow and curling right by the bridge of my nose. I'm terrified if Kid will ask what happened. If he'll pretend it doesn't exist. If he'll twist his face in disgust.

Kid carefully cups my cheek in one hand and traces the scar with the other. He doesn't look at me in shock, but as a doctor would a patient's injuries.

"Normally I'm not one for asymmetrical features." Kid says. "But this does suit you well." I stare at him, unknowing what words could possibly speak my thoughts. I suddenly have an urge. Kid isn't some slut off the streets I'd paid anymore. I wanted to _make love_ to him, a prostitute whom I knew nothing about. A prostitute who could understand me better than an abusive boyfriend ever could.

I push my lips against his, taking permission he had no preparation for as I curl my tongue around his. A shivered gasp escapes his mouth as Kid completely shuts his eyes. My hand sneaks around to the hem of his jeans and tug lightly. Kid doesn't protest as I slide the material down to his knees, my hands tracing the curve of his upper leg, skin only hidden by the fabric of his trunks.

 _His_ face flashes through my head and I quickly pull apart the kiss to reassure myself that I am alone with Kid and no one else. Kid doesn't question my actions and instead takes the opportunity to slide out my belt and unzip my pants.

Thank God I had thought of it before, the lubricant and condoms were on the nightstand. Even imagining having to get up and get them is cringe worthy. I reach for them, distracted by Kid's fingers hooking around the back of my pants and pulling them down. My hand grips onto the cardboard box and I shake a piece of latex out. I shake my pants off, which were around my ankles, thanks to Kid.

I grab Kid under the ass and pull Kid close to me, chests touching. I flip our positions to where I'm on top and he's on the bottom. All I can say is that I got us out of our underwear _**REAL**_ fast, our bodies exposed to one another. I can't help but notice every inch of his body. The shape of his hips, his now messy hair, the sweat beading on his forehead, the small whines and moans escaping his mouth. I don't know when he transformed into a hot god, but I love it.

I slide the condom over myself then reach for the lube, smearing some on the head. Kid wraps his arms around my neck, and the moan that leaves him by a thrust is silenced by my lips on his. Our erections slide against each other for a second, hip bones meeting. Kid's legs wrap around my waist and he falls onto the bed.

"Fuck, _yes_." Kid moans. I pull out and thrust into him again, earning a sound between grunt and gasp. I swap between rotating and thrusting, grinding myself into Kid. I know it's just sex, but goddamn does it feel like more. I feel like I've known him for years. Years of being with him. Caring for him. Loving him. Making love to him.

Kid covers his mouth with one hand, unwilling to make the whines that pounded against his palm. I lean down to him and pull it away. I plant small kisses near but not on his lips. I create a smooth flow of gentle thrusts and letting Kid become accustomed to the feeling before pulling away and grinding into Kid. A loud gasp exits his mouth, and quickly turns into a long drawn out moan as he arches his back.

My love making turns into lust filled thrusts, each moan or grunt from Kid driving me closer to the edge. I can see his stomach muscles clench, the kisses he was making on my body becoming less passionate and more wild. If sex had a unique scent, this was it. The smell of sweat and bodies on one another.

Kid pressed his body closer to mine, letting his erect length come in contact with my stomach. I stroke his cock before enclosing it with my whole hand, pumping. Kid shudders and attacks my whole face, bad eye included, with his tongue. He trails down and bites my lip gently and that's it. I kiss him as I cum, the orgasm filling the condom. I use both hands as I pump Kid's dick now, feeling it twitch as he became dangerously close. The white substance coats my hand and chest.

I pull out of Kid and lay on the bed next to him. I lick my hand, tasting his salty/bitter liquid. We stay like that for a while, catching our breathes, legs shaky until I speak.

"Please say I'm not the only one who just experienced the best sex of his life." Kid turns on his side and grins at me charmingly.

"Nope."

 **A/N )÷=÷( Contest entry for XxWolfRocksxX on DeviantArt. Kid is from an anime that I think is called Soul Eater.**


	8. Steve and Jordan

Before any dumb shit can be said I'll say this : Jordan and I are not boyfriends. We are not romantically involved. Friends with benefits describes us better. Fuck buddies even. Does this makes things any less awkward when a fan jokes about us being gay? No, no it does not. Still, it's not like they're far off.

We both sat on my bed, watching classic horror movies and munching on popcorn that would surely give us diabetes. We had been camping at each other's places a lot recently, either just for shits and giggles or to have sex. Jordan was wrapped up in all my blankets like he was five. I swear to God, he even giggled when he got comfortable.

The movie ended with Jordan leaning on my shoulder and the bowl of inedible kernels on my desk. My back was starting to hurt, a dull ache under the disk of bone that was just the right amount of pain to drive someone crazy. I groan a little and Jordan immediately backs off.

"Shit, sorry sorry." He apologizes. I shrug a little and roll my shoulders to try to relieve the feeling.

"Nah man, you were fine. My back's just been killing me." I complain, shifting my weight to my left side. Jordan shakes his head and frees his arms of the blanket's death grasp. He puts one of way too many blankets behind my waist, more so to the right side. The fabric was a makeshift support beam, and I will admit that when I leaned onto it the pressure on my back decreased.

"Yeah, it probably hurts less." Jordan says, reading my mind. "It's called sitting up straight, Steven. I mean, do you know what posture fucking is?"

"My God, I've heard of it but never thought it was real." I joke. Jordan rolls his eyes. He stretches, both arms reaching towards the ceiling, before falling into my lap. His head was somehow perfectly aligned with my crotch, the area right about his neck on my cock with only the material of our clothes separating us. I focus everything in my body on not getting hard, and yet Jordan knows how to tease me _just right_ , and damn does it feel good too.

Jordan turns his head so he faces my front, forcing to me choke back a groan. He wraps his arm around my upper waist, lower half of his body still suffocated by blankets. I let myself gasp when he lifts up my shirt to kiss my stomach, only because Jordan's lips are cold. But still pleasurable to touch. Jordan works his way up, licking my belly button, pecking my chest, until his head is next to mine. My t-shirt was way to big on me, the collar stopping in the middle of my chest. It's comfy as hell to sleep in though. Jordan grins at the accomplishment of wearing the same shirt as me and celebrates by connecting our lips in a kiss. No tongue, just the connecting of mouths. He leans away with a smirk.

"You taste like popcorn." Jordan smirked. I raise my eyebrows, challenging his sarcasm. I attack his jaw with kisses and only lean away when I hear a delicious moan leak out of his mouth.

"Likewise, jackass." I reply. Jordan shakes it off and slides under my shirt, now determined to have me make noises of pleasure. He places his hand on my groin. I bite back a groan and instead let my head drop and eyes close. Jordan's gets dangerously close to my length but never touches it, just teasing me like the bastard he is. By now the blankets were dropped onto the floor, all except the one keeping my back supported.

A strangled gasp manages to leave my mouth when Jordan palms me through my pants. I have time to mumble what a dipshit he is before he pulled down my pants and boxers. Jordan licked the head and I grip his hair. He encloses the top of my tip in his mouth, tongue circling. Jordan is the pure definition of fuckboy, but damn does he make me feel good in ways I've never experienced. I finally moan when Jordan starts to bob his head, not caring he won only that this felt really fucking good and that I didn't want him to stop. Jordan's teeth graze my member lightly and he hums.

"Oh my _fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck_ ," I moan. "D-do that again." I feel Jordan smile and he deep throats me, not even gagging. When he hums it's indescribable: the best feeling a male could probably ever get. I slip over and edge and orgasm with drawn out pants. Jordan swallows all of the liquid and licks my shafts before coming off. I pant as I come down from my high, a small but noticeable blush creeping on my neck.

"When, th-the absolute Hell did you get so go-good at that?" I mumble, still catching my breath. Jordan shrugs his shoulders and lays down on the bed, hands behind his neck.

"I dunno, maybe the last eight times we've fucked?" He replied nonchalantly, like the subject of discussion was not a blowjob and instead going to the store for some ice cream. I laugh and plop down next to him, and then wince as sharp pain shoot through my shoulder blades. Jordan props himself up on his elbows and looks at me.

"See," he says. "This is why people say we need better posture. We could be having sexy-fun-times, but no, you're back is killing you and now I'm going to jack off because blowing you off got me hard." I stare at Jordan, eyes squinted. I reach behind me for a pillow, grab one, and slam it to his head. Jordan recovers and grins at me.

And thus began the most dorky, sexual, and all together best pillow fight of my life.

 **A/N |{}| Note to all you kiddies : Alwaysaslutforsans on SoundCloud is literally all I listen to when I write these kind of things. Don't judge me, I have to listen to something for inspiration.**


	9. Danielle and Paint

**A/N .. (=).. Man straight sex is weird. The note is up here for once as a sort of warning. First time putting a warning. Damn. Warning is for no purpose written porn. No fanfiction, just porn. What is my life. And also Third Person. Danielle remember you asked for fanfiction it was a long ass while ago but you asked.**

Kisses, sweet and sensual, being exchanged between bodies. Nothing rough, at least, not yet. Paint on top and legs wrapped around Danielle. Damn, he loved kissing her. She wasn't exactly submissive but gentle and careful and way more cute than a girl ever should be. The connecting of lips was stopped for a moment as the two panted lightly. They were soon against the other's again in a more passionate and wild way, sparks practically flying around the two.

Danielle lightly tugged on Paint's shirt and quickly pulled it off, leaving his chest exposed. A blush was dangerously close to popping up but Paint ignored it, too distracted by the pleasure on his mouth. Danielle's tongue slipped out and Paint curled his around hers. He didn't care if it was accidental, all he wanted was to have more. Danielle shivered when Paint 's tongue sneaked it's way into her mouth. Her hands wrapped around his waist and pulled herself up so she straddled Paint. The position change didn't affect him much except for a small smile. Paint reached under the back of her shirt, hand resting on the fabric of Danielle's bra. Unlike most men, would would tear the thing off and maul her boobs, he rubbed his knuckles in slow circles on her shoulder blades. Pleasure coursed through Danielle' upper body and she leaned away from the kiss and shut her eyes, quietly and shakily moaning.

Danielle slid her shirt off and unhooked the back of her bra so it hung loosely over her chest, still covering her breasts. Paint slid off her jeans which left nothing but her undergarments. Danielle looked at Paint and turned away as soon as their eyes met, blushing as Paint studied her exposed body with gentle eyes. Her chest curved down on her stomach and back out by her hips, an hourglass figure. Most women he knew had thin figures with large breasts, but Danielle's body was curvy _just_ right. Paint lightly traced the skin of her thigh and, noticing her embarrassment, pulled his own pants off. A small blush crept onto his cheeks when Paint realized how obvious his erection was. Either Danielle was being too shy to say anything about it or she didn't notice. As long as it wasn't brought into speech, he was fine.

The two stared at each other for a moment catching their breath and mentally preparing themselves, a slight tension building until Paint reached to the dresser and fumbled around in a drawer for a minute before pulling out a condom and bottle of lubricant. Danielle swallowed nervously.

"We don't-uhm, have to." Paint said, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. Danielle shook her head.

"No no, it's- it's fine." She mumbled. Paint nodded and guided their lips back together, slowly pulling off the rest of their clothing. Paint teared open the condom and took out the latex piece. Careful not to disturb the current kiss he slid it on himself. Danielle leaned away and glanced down. Paint went wide eyed and looked away. He'd had sex before, but it was just sex. Not something with someone he really loved. He was usually confident enough in bed, but that was before Danielle. Now Paint's stomach was a flurry of emotions and nerves because this girl was really innocent and still a virgin and damn did he want her first time to be perfect.

Danielle looked away, poker faced and and embarrassed that she was staring. Quite possibly the most dumb thing she had ever done. Once again in a moment of silence the two sat, having no idea where to take the situation next.

"So, we're going all the way?" Paint asked. Danielle nodded timidly and made sure not to look when he squirted lube out of the bottle. Paint breathed in a bit and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her entrance close enough to his cock. He slowly pushed in and sat for a few seconds to let Danielle become accustomed to the feeling. He wasn't very deep, but the last thing Paint wanted was for Danielle to not be into it.

"If it starts to hurt, just- just tell me and I'll stop." He whispered. Danielle nodded, nuzzling her face in the crook of Paint's neck and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Paint snaked his hands around her lower waist and held on gently, holding Danielle still as he pulled out. Danielle shivered and goosebumps started popping up on her arms. Paint pushed back in, going deeper than last time. Danielle whimpered, being a bit and plenty uncomfortable.

"Shit shit shit shit, sorry. I'll go slow." Paint apologized quietly. He attempted to not moan or grunt as he went through the motions as to make things as un-awkward as possible. Once a steady pace was built up, the pain began to subside and Danielle sighed a bit out of relief. Paint went the tiniest bit faster and couldn't help but smile when Danielle shuddered at the pleasure. She bit her lip as her face flushed, not embarrassed but hot. Why was she so hot all of a sudden?

Paint shifted his hips a bit and was in the perfect position to grind into Danielle. She gasped and arched her back slightly at the initial movement. Paint continued to grind into Danielle, going faster or slower depending on her quit moans and shaky pants. Heat pooled in his stomach, his cock twitching every so often. He tried to keep it in, but it was too much when Danielle yelped suddenly, rocking into Paint's abdomen and shutting her eyes. Too good, too much, too fast and he moaned loudly and unashamedly.

The two sat, catching their breath. Paint pulled out and flopped back onto the bottom of bed. Danielle watched him and began to giggle when all his hair stuck to his face, making him look somewhat like a lion. She fell into hysteria when he failed to prop himself up on his elbows and instead smacked himself in the face.

"You're an dork." Danielle managed to choke out. Paint groaned, sat up and took off the condom. He tied it, rolled it into a ball, threw it at the trash can and pumped his fists into the air when it landed in.

"Yup. A dork." Danielle confirmed. Paint smirked.

"Yes but I'm your dork." He cooed, successfully leaning forward to connect their mouths without falling. They pulled away after a few moments and smiled. Paint lay on the correct side of the bed and pulled down Danielle with him. Her head rest right on his neck and he couldn't help but ruffle her hair.

" 'Night hun."

" 'Night dork."


End file.
